"So wait… You're telling me that he went over the border… On his own…. On purpose?"

"I wish I wasn't, but yes, that's what I'm saying. "

"Goddammit, Chris, are you joking, because if you are so help me I-"

"John! Calm down! Look… He's not joking. Stiles… He had this crazy idea that he could infiltrate them… That he could end them from the inside."

"Get off of me Dean! That's my SON you're talking about! My only child! And you're telling me he's as good as committed suicide!" The Head Sheriff of the Peace shook off the younger man's hand from his shoulder. Dean sighed, as he pulled back, glancing to his silent partner, stepping back.

The Prime Minister sighed, as he rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. Chris Argent was a man that rarely slept easy. Leading a country at war against a nation of savage beasts was tiresome on a good day. Now, he had the pleasure of delivering bad news to members of his own Cabinet. John Stilinski had been on his staff as the head of Justice for nearly 20 years. And more than that, John was his friend. Chris had been there when John's wife had died. He'd been there when Stiles had been born. It would have been easier, yes, to let someone else deliver him the news, but Chris felt he owed it to his friend to tell him in person.

He was starting to regret letting Dean and Sam stick around for this, though. He'd thought the two brothers might be able to give John some support, but Chris was second guessing himself now. The Winchester Brothers were his two best hunters. They were practically legend, in their country. New Aurae looked to Sam and Dean as a sparkling pillar of hope, and example, for how they should defend home and hearth. The citizens told their children stories of the two.

"Monsters look under their beds for the Winchesters." That one was Dean's favorite.

They were hardened, though. Numb. Going through the things that these two had experienced in their life long struggle against the enemy had affected them.

"John, look. We're going to get your son back. I've already got my best tacticians coming up with plans. We're looking at every angle." Chris assured, sending Dean a sharp glare when he'd seen the blond start to scoff. Sam finally took the hint, and grabbed his brother by the shoulder, dragging him out of the room, to leave John and Chris alone.

"Quit manhandlin' me, Sammy." Dean growled as their footsteps echoed behind them. The heavy swing of a door effectively separated them at last.

"Chris... He's my son... Stiles is all I have left..." John was a breaking man. Chris had known this would be another nail in his coffin. His face was set in a grim tone, as his hands rested first on the Sheriffs shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

"We'll get him back, John. I won't let the Beast claim him." Not like they took Victoria. Biting back on his molars, Chris inhaled deeply, and sent a quiet nod, to the young woman standing at the door. That was all it took for her to pale quietly, and disappear in the path the Brothers had taken moments before.

"...Sometimes I worry about you."

It wasn't an exaggeration. I really do worry about my sister. I love her. But at the same time, she frightens me just a bit. Seeing her in her element... It's just a little creepy. I think she enjoys training the slaves a little too much. It's not a job for her. It's a hobby.

"Nonsense, Derek. There's nothing to be worried about! You need to lighten up, little brother. Seriously." The brunette across the room from me laughed, as she sat down on her leather-bound chair. A snap of her fingers had one of her obedient pets shuffling forward across the floor. Once the naked human girl was in place, the woman's booted feet came to rest on her back, like a perfectly level automan. I couldn't help but stare, exhaling uneasily.

"Laura... Is there a reason you called me up here? You know I don't really like coming into your..." I was lost for an appropriate word to fit my sister's quarters.

"My abode? My home, my slice of heaven, chambers?"

"Lair." I finished finally, tone as flat as my expression. That made her laugh, as always.

"Oh, that hurt, Derek. You're so soft, sometimes, I wonder how you survive." She laughed. It was all in good nature though. Still, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, lifting an eyebrow to bring attention back to my question. It was trying to keep my eyes on my older sister.

"...Fine. Spoil sport. Someday, I'll get you over this phobia of humans. Maybe someday soon." Ugh... I hate it when her eyes glint like that. She's obviously planning something that's going to give me a headache. "I wanted to show you my latest project. I just got him last week. He's been a fun challenge, but... I'm not sure what I'll be able to do with him. He's not exactly my type, you see." Getting up from her reclined position, Laura walked into the next room. She had an entire wing of the estate to herself. I preferred to keep my privacy, living in the 'guest' apartments. It was the Old Estate, though. The house Laura and I had been raised in. Before our capital city of Fenria had flourished, and re-established our economy.

It was smaller, but it was still extravagant compared to the disrepair most of our citizens found themselves living in. Especially in the towns near the borders. Most of those had become military outposts, over the course of the War. The Division had torn the continent in two, almost. A trench, stretching thousands of miles, separated two halves of what was once the most bountiful continent on the planet. The world we now lived in was Heaven and Hell on Earth, side by side.

"Laura... seriously, I don't have the time or energy to deal with this. I've got reports to read over an-"

"And a giant stick shoved so far up your ass, I'm surprised you can even breathe, Derek. Seriously. You are the Alpha's nephew. You can stand to relax just a little bit, okay?" Laura looked at me with the same worried expression that I could vaguely remember Mom giving Father. Laura was just like our mother. Too much like her, according to Uncle Peter.

Regardless, I wasn't given any time for a retort, or a protest, as my sister had taken my hand, and was dragging me down the hall, to the Kennel. That's what she calls it, but really, it's just the bunk-room for the Slaves she houses and trains. Calling the pets that Laura keeps 'slaves' is a pretty large misnomer. They're more like puppies. Tamed into perfect obedience. The once she likes the best, she keeps. For her pleasure, and in return for her pleasure, she spoils them.

I'm not saying that's how all human slaves are treated, in Louga. Some are treated very poorly, I'm sure. Humans are not viewed very highly, by my kind. At the beginning of the war, it was us Wolves who were hunted, almost to the point of extinction. Even the innocent ones who had never harmed anyone. We were killed without discrimination, until we finally started to fight back. At the beginning of what had been intended to be a silent war, under the detection of normal humans, kept between werewolves and hunters, we were exposed. Our kind was revealed to the masses, and at first, we were captured, and studied. After they learned all they could about us, they drove us back, intending to capture all of us, imprison us, I don't know what their end goal was, at that point.

They underestimated us, and we adapted. We evolved, got stronger, multiplied, and soon we were able to fight back. We grew to stand on level ground with them. That was when the Great Divide started. A 15 year battle that is still ongoing today. At some point, the Humans, in their settlement of New Aurae, began keeping us. As pets. Like our canine ancestors. Any of us they could catch, we were weakened, and tamed, and turned into lapdogs. Fire for fire, though. We decided to use their own tactics against them. Humans are so much easier to manipulate and tame, than a wild beast. Fear is a potent weapon.

Laura giggled in excitement, her own anticipation presumably as riled as my own dread. When she was this happy, it almost always ended up with me, in some kind of pain.

"Say hello to puppy." My sister cooed at me, practically dancing over to the large cage installed in the corner. It was reserved for the untamed, and unpredictable pets that she managed to obtain. There were heavy velvet curtains drawn around it. A technique used for birds, mostly. But it worked on humans as well, sometimes. In this case, it didn't seem to be working too well. I could hear whoever was inside rattling around, chains and all. With a flourish, Laura who was always into dramatics, swung open the curtain. It was the same color of scarlet as her dress, so as it rested against her, it blended. But my eyes were quickly drawn away, to the human in the cage.

I quickly noticed that it was a boy. He was naked, as all human slaves were kept by default. It was up to their owners if they were clothed. Laura only clothed her favorites. This one's face was hidden, though, by a heavy, leather blindfold, and a gag. It was a mask type contraption, which was locked to the back of his head. His ankles were shackled, his hands left free. Though I could see the bruising on his flesh where metal had been, previously. Pale skin, riddled with fading contusions, and dark freckles... He looked like he couldn't have been older than 18, by his size and shape. But looks could be deceiving...

"What's his story?" I heard myself ask. That made Laura grin. She was proud of herself for finding something that interested me. She pushed herself up from where she'd been leaning against the cage. I hate it when she circles me like this, like a wolf pup playing around. Her arm drapes over my shoulders, with a little difficulty. I'm a few inches taller than she is. Her manicured hand brushing some non-existent dust off of the leather of my jacket.

"He was captured inside our borders. Isn't that interesting, Derek? This little puppy is a wild one. He managed to get through the Wastelands, all on his own. How impressive. I've had him about a week now, and nothing I do seems to break him. Short of beating him, I'm at a loss. I might have to sell him off to the farms, if I can't tame him... Or find someone who can..." There it was...

"Laura, no. You know I don't mess with slaves. I don't like it, I don't have the patience." I should have realized this was what she was going to be getting at. How ridiculous. I could practically sense the pout on her face, before she moved away from me and turned to look up with those damn puppy dog eyes.

"I guess I'll just send him to the Farms. He'll spend the rest of his short life working, being beaten... Who knows what they'll do to him..." Gritting my teeth and releasing a warning growl, I turned away.

"It's not going to happen, Laura. Drop it. Do what you must. He won't be the first to go to the farms, and he won't be the last. If he dies, then that will be his own fault, for not behaving. I. Don't. Want. Him." Taking one step, a sound made my next one falter. A whimper. Like an injured, frightened dog. But muffled. It was involuntary, the swivel of my body, to look back. First at Laura. But her eyebrows were raised curiously, and directed to the boy in the cage. Which is where mine went next. He was crouched at the bars, now, hands wrapped around the steel tightly. He reeked of fear. It was like being shocked by electricity, the effect that scent had on me. His pale shoulders were shaking. No... His entire body was. Why was his vulnerability so... intoxicating?

Again, I tried to turn away. I didn't even get half-way twisted, before another sound came.

"Please..."

If I'd been a regular human, I wouldn't have even heard the word. It was barely even what someone would consider a muffled breath. The sound was skewed from the bit-shaped gag clenched between his teeth. But it rocked me, and the heavy weight of expectation.

"Fuck... Laura... Dammit." More silence, as I waited, hoping she'd retract the offer. Naturally, though, it didn't come. "Have him escorted to my house this evening." I couldn't keep the rage out of my voice, and I didn't bother trying, as I stormed out. Making sure every foot step echoed. Who was this little shit, to make me feel this way?

For some reason, despite being anxious and irritable with desire to simply go home, I couldn't. Not knowing that I was now the reluctant owner of a human slave, now. I could practically imagine the boy, chained up, and waiting. Knowing my sister, she had probably instructed the transport to sort the boy out in my personal quarters. My bedroom. She's always trying to get me to fuck something, or someone. Saying that it'll help me to lighten up. Honestly, I hardly trusted anyone, werewolf or human alike, to get that close to me. We all have our personal defenses.

I couldn't stay out all night though. Well, I could, but my sense of responsibility was too strong for that. If I had a pet, now, I was going to take care of it. Him.

The servants that had come to deliver the human were the only other living beings in the house. I like my privacy. So after a quick briefing to learn that the slave had been tended to as far as food, and toiletries (Which meant he'd been scrubbed clean, inside and out.) I dismissed the servants, and wound up in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, and heading upstairs. This had to be dealt with, now, sooner than later.

I didn't notice it as I walked up the hallway to my room as I was lost in thought, but opening the door, a powerful aroma washed over me. It was potent, making me light-headed with the first few instinctive inhales. I shook my head to clear it, stepping into the tangy-scented room. Coming up short, my eyes had no choice but to focus sharply on the body that was so artfully arranged on my bed. "Goddammit..." I murmured, gritting my teeth. My new pet was face down on the bed, arms and legs fastened to each of the 4 posts that surround my bed. The large mattress had only ever been lain on before by myself.

Walking closer, I started to notice how warm it was inside the room. Had someone turned up the heat? Maybe for the sake of the slave boy, who was completely bare. So bare, that I could see the pink flush on his pale white ass cheeks, where he'd been gripped, and spread open. That wasn't all I could see. There were freckles. Tiny, dark moles, stippled all over the slender body. Looking them over in a sweeping gaze, I found myself licking my lips gently.

It felt muggy in my room. A heady ambience from the dimmed golden light sconces on the walls, the thick aroma in the air that was mingling deliciously with the natural scent of this mystery of a slave... Part of me was tempted to crack a window, but the louder part of me was unable to tear my eyes from white flesh. I could peek, between those full white globes, a large disk of red. The base of a plug that had been inserted into the boys body, to hold him open.

"Fuck... Really?" I breathed out. Laura had him stretched for me too? Would she stop at nothing? She had virtually served me up the perfect dish, on a silver platter. Or in this case, a silver bedspread. Her irony knows no bounds.

I did not fail to notice the slave jerk in reaction to my voice suddenly permeating the thick air. Reaching down, I instinctively gave his spine a soothing slide of my hand. He shivered, and I noticed how cold his skin was compared to mine. How could he be so chilled, in such a warm room? Were all humans like this?

Regardless, the moment my flesh was on his, I knew I could not stop touching him. There was a subtle thrumming in his skin. Energy, life, electricity, something. Something enticing. Scenting the air around him, I was starting to pick apart the aroma in the room. Ginseng, something else that was sharp, and distinctly floral, slightly fruity, vanilla, and spice. The spice was this boy. My mouth was watering, wanting to find out if he tasted the way he smelled.

I don't even know when I had climbed onto my knees on the mattress beside my new pet. I also didn't know when I had started accepting him as mine, in my mind. Something wasn't right. For a moment, battling with the wolf inside me that was bashing itself against the hard-wrought cage I had built up around it, I had almost won. I was almost able to take my hand off of this... human.

Yet, as you can tell, things rarely go my way. The moment I began to retract my touch, I was given a pathetic, muffled whimper, a visible shiver wracking the lanky form. His fear, and apparent need were enough to break open the look. I knew that my eyes were blue now, glowing with my lack of control. Smoothing my hand down to cup the teenage humans ass firmly, I had to lean in, taking in his scent direct from the source, grazing my lips over his shoulder and burying my face against his neck to inhale deeply. His body shifted, hips pressing not away from, but into my hand. Curious, I took my hand away instead, and slipped it beneath him, palming at his groin. The boy was hard. Dripping pre cum. And as my fingertips mapped down the length of his slender cock, I could feel the line of a restricting, tight leather cock ring, snapped in place to keep the human hard, and in desperate need. This was just cruel, now.

"You need release, don't you boy?" I heard myself growl, in a voice I hardly recognized. It was seething with dominance, and hunger. A jerky nod of the head was returned, with a soft moan. Sliding fingertips too-gently over the others smooth-shaven scrotum, I took my time in feeling is softness, and his wrinkles. The prickle of a couple hairs grown out. But for the most part he was smooth, and overheated. Drawing on his neck succulently with nibbling teeth, I could taste the blood rising from tiny burst capillary veins, to stain the skin a dark, sprawling purple. My marks would linger on the boy. Evidence of ownership and use. Any good slave would be proud to feel the ache of these marks in the morning.

I could hear the moans he tried to stifle in his throat, hips rocking subtly against the embroidered duvet below him for stimulation. It was a fruitless endeavor, but still, it angered me a little. Harshly, my hand moved, coming down across my pets backside with a resounding smack, and an echoed yelp through teeth clenched on metal. Something about that sound made me shudder, a surge of heat and blood pooling in my own cock. Which I had only just realized was hard. hard enough that the zipper in my pants was irritating. It was ignored for now. Leaning up so that I could rest back on my knees, perched on the left of the body stretched out so artfully, I watched the right side of the humans ass turn red, in the shape of my hand. Oh that was a pretty sight.

Snarling, my hand fell 3 more times, once in the same spot as before, and twice at the other cheek, so that it would match it's twin. I could imagine what torture it would be, for his tight canal to clamp down on the black plug, resting immovably in his body. Jerking it forward into his prostate? Possibly. Regardless, in the dim light, I could see a glistening sheen start to form on the others pale skin. His shoulders were moving more noticeably, up and down, with labored breaths.

With a thick swallow, I noticed his hips had stopped moving. His back muscles were taut, and quivering. I slid my left hand over the small of his back, rubbing my thumb into those small dimples over the swell of his ass. Digging into the muscle there firmly, it wasn't long until his stress relented, and he noticeably sagged against the bed.

"Good boy." Murmuring the words out gently, I had to feel more. I wanted to see just how... responsive he was. Claws extended on just my right hand, i carefully traced them down the swollen marks on the pale white globes I had been so focused on, and over the smooth taint beneath the peak of black I was purposefully ignoring. I wanted to be inside of him. Badly. I really did. But teasing him, driving up his arousal until he was leaking copious amounts of pre, and pheromones, this was almost as good. He shuddered, and sighed out through his nose, when my dangerous claws pulled down the length of his inner thigh. The hair on his legs, brown, and coarse, crinkled against the pads of my fingers. When I passed over a particular spot, his entire thigh trembled. So I did it again. And again. Until he tried to jerk away. Maybe I had driven him to that on purpose. I probably had, because that meant...

SMACK!

The sting of my hand against his ass hurt him more than me, and yet, between each one, he lifted his hips, begging for more. At least, thats what my instincts told me. His ankles were fastened too far apart for him to find purchase with his knees, so every time my hand fell to his flesh, his legs slid back out, and his hips collapsed onto the bed.

it was too good. I almost got carried away. But I stopped, finally, when I heard the other let out a sob. I could even smell saline. Salt water. Tears. They mingled with the heady aroma in the air, and looking down at my handy work, I noticed that at some point, I had gotten a little careless. My still-drawn claws had left a series of shallow scratches over his flesh. Spanking him over the cuts must have been too overwhelming for him. So with a quiet shush, I focused again on massaging his muscles, leaning down to give him a few moments of tender affection instead of harshness.

Pressing kisses to each knob of the prominent vertebrae in his spine, I once again found myself at his neck. A few tears had managed to escape the heavy leather blindfold, so I licked them away. They tasted like a dizzying mix of pain and pleasure. Quickly, it was becoming too much for me. Like a pubescent teen, I could have rutted dryly against this boy and filled my pants, if I allowed myself.

There were better ways to find completion. The only route I wanted to take, was currently occupied, so finally, when the human had calmed from his spanking, I decided to take care of that.

Another pass down the length of my slaves spine left a trail of love-marks. Dark purple bruises that had caused no pain, but rather, served to earn me another sob. This time one of desperation, instead of pain.

Quickly repositioning myself between the teens legs, both of my hands wrapped, all-encompassing, around either side of his ass, spreading him open to his limits, so I could even see the way the wrinkled flesh puckered and gripped at the tapered base of the black toy inside of him. It was metal. I could smell that much, under the overwhelming musk of the slave-boys sex. Quietly, my tongue worked its way over the others most intimate place, tracing all around the snuggle held plug. God, he tasted so... spicy, and energetic. The sharp bite of ginger, or lemongrass, was in his sweat, and flesh.

Biting the end of the plug with my teeth, it took a few good tugs, before it finally began to slide out. When my mouth allowed it to drop to the bed below, I was faced with the incredibly erotic vision of my pets momentarily gaping hole gasping, trying to clench down on something, anything.

"Don't worry, pet... You won't be empty for long." Was my soothing promise. Leaning up, and sighing almost luxuriously, it was relief that flooded me, followed by a surge of need, when I finally unzipped my pants, and popped open the button. I detest underwear, and their restriction, so it took seconds to get my cock out of it's fabric confines. Stroking it twice was all it took to spread out the copious amount of lubrication my body had produced in the form of a viscous pre-cum. At the base, my fingers twisted around the tell-tale hint of a bulge, knot already inflating just a bit. This would be a quick fuck.

With that in mind, before I entered, I wriggled my hand under the human, unsnapping the punishing strip of leather that had been a source of pain for the boy. That is, to say, I didn't want him coming right then either. So those same relieving fingers turned hard again when I circled them around the humans dick to keep him in a restricting vice grip. He'd cum only when I wanted him too. Somewhere in my mind, I registered the fact that he was begging, pleading, around his gag. I ignored it, as I pressed the thickness of my arousal right into the cleft of the boys ass, thrusting against him numerous times. The last time I drew my hips back, the head of my cock fit against the depression of his stretched asshole perfectly.

"Remember, boy. Breathe." I ground out between clenched teeth. That's when it really began. A brace of shallow, steady thrusts had my dick sinking inside the boy inch by inch, until there was no more to give. Even if it was an embarrassment, I almost came inside of him them moment the burgeoning swell of my knot came to rest at his ringed muscle. His shoulders were shaking. So I swept my hand up from where it had been bracing my cock for entry, to carve my fingertips into his muscles, forcing the tension out of him. And then he started to breathe. That helped me to relax. It gave me a moment to reign myself in and calm down. Or else this would be too short. Already, I could feel the clench and release of the tight glove of flesh and muscle around my cock. It was too good. Eyes closed, I revelled in the heat, and gave the boys balls a firm squeeze. A signal.

I was starting to draw back. And the delicious clutch of muscle dragging with friction against the tightly drawn flesh of my swollen dick had me releasing a shuddering groan. The sound trailing off to end in a harsh growl. Sounds were coming out of me consistently, as I pressed back in, and then pulled away again. Deep rumblings that emanated from my gut, deep in me. The contented purr of a wolf claiming what was his.

There was no stopping, no going back. I don't know what had gotten into me, but soon, too quickly, all I could focus on was a frenzied pace of push and pull, sawing my cock into the pliant, supple form beneath me, for my own carnal needs. Yet, the hot length that was trying it's best to scald my hand was evidence enough that it was not only me who was enjoying this. The wet slap of flesh on flesh was the predominant sound in the room now, kept in time with low grunts, and moans, and the humans muffled keens and mewls of pleasure, or pain. I could smell a little pain but not much. If anything, he was probably getting off on that twinge he felt whenever I threatened to press my now fully formed knot into him. The stretch was delicious and he shivered whenever I came close to sinking it into him. All of my doubts about taking a pet had been wiped away for the moment. Just as much as this boy was mine... I felt as if I were his.

He was close. So close to cumming despite my suffocating grip on his cock, choking off the impending flow of semen with the tight squeeze. Sure, I had heard of a dry orgasm, an anal orgasm, but I'd never imagined that the bragging had any anchor in truth. But, here, as I rapidly, and relentlessly slammed the blunt head of my length into the humans abused prostate, his legs were beginning to quiver. I could feel muscles pulsing in his groin, trying to force out the cum that was blocked behind my fingers. His abdominal muscles were next, convulsing in bursts, just the same way his legs skittered without control.

Suddenly, a short scream of intense pleasure, and pain, poured out of a widespread mouth, gag useless against the volume of the raw sound. It was the straw to break the camels back, as they say. With a vicious roar of my own, I let go of the wildly twitching cock in my hand in favor of sinking both sets of my claws into the boy's hips, yanking him into my last, hard thrust. Popping in past his fluttering, spasming asshole, my knot was tied in him. I knew, the tiny voice in the back of my head that was drowned out by the screams and the pleasure knew, that it was wrong to knot a slave. Knotting was for mates alone. A wolf wants what a wolf wants, though, and in a split second, I was tied into him, and pulsing.

Below the human, there was a large puddle of his release, a potent smell in the air. And inside of him, my own was flooding, continuously, with every jerking pulse of my balls.

Maybe Laura was right. Maybe I had needed this. The very moment my climax had taken me over, I felt my wolf sated. If you could see him, he would have been rolled over, tongue lolling out as he grinned and panted. That seemed like a good idea. Slicing the rope bindings that had held the human still while he had waited for me, I looped my arm under his unconscious form, rolling us onto our sides in a smooth motion. At this rate, I'd be in him all night, so there was no point in being uncomfortable. Arms clasped around a cum-slicked abdomen, I found a comfortable position in just seconds, before settling for a long rest.